


Pick Up (a.k.a. Even after the sun comes up)

by The_Silent_Writer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (not really) - Freeform, Do you put friendships under the Relationship tag?, Does it matter?, Gambling (sort of), Gen, Mutual Understandings, Or is that just for smooch friends?, Poker, Sam had a rough night, friendships, probably not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-27
Updated: 2014-11-27
Packaged: 2018-02-27 05:12:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2680397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Silent_Writer/pseuds/The_Silent_Writer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's fed up with Dean. He goes to a bar to forget his troubles when a familiar name lights up his phone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pick Up (a.k.a. Even after the sun comes up)

It was all Sam could do to not slam the door in his brother’s face. He’d had enough of Dean to last him a lifetime. And as per usual, when his brother just became too much for him to handle, he stalked out of their motel room of the week and made a beeline for the nearest bar.

 

Tonight’s bar was quieter than he was used to. Sam was thankful for it. There may have been a time when he would have enjoyed the crowds and loud music that went with a lively pub, but ever since… Jess, it just didn’t feel the same. Like being surrounded by the things they had enjoyed together was some kind of sin.

He hadn’t even gotten to his third beer before his phone chimed.

Sam smiled at the bar counter. He knew exactly who it was.

**Bonny Irish Boy**

Hey, boy-o. I’m in town. Care for a game or two?

 

With a breath of a laugh, he nodded to his phone.

**Sam Winchester**

Or three or ten.

 

He had no idea how Patrick did this. Every time. Every. Single. Time. When he had a falling out with Dean, the Irishman never failed to find Sam and invite him for a game of Poker.

He should find it odd, borderline uncomfortable even, especially since Patrick was a witch. One that had nearly gotten Dean killed, his brain so politely added every time he wandered onto the subject. But there was just something about the man that Sam liked. They connected over their games, even from the start when he had to win Dean’s years back from him. Now when they got together the Poker matches were merely for sport, something to get their minds off of their harsh realities; if only for the night.

It sounded off to even think that a hunter and a witch could bond over anything, despite it being gambling, but that was the black and white of it. The games they shared every four or five months were something that helped them be sure that they were still alive. That they were still human beings underneath the blood and grime and tears.

Sam’s phone went off again.

**Bonnie Irish Boy**

Oh, that good of an evening? Let me message you my whereabouts and you can come over, yeah?

 

There was no need to reply. Patrick knew the moment Sam received the address he’d be bounding, like the moose everyone believed him to be, over to see him.

 

The hotel Patrick was currently residing in looked much more expensive than what Sam was used to. For one, the lobby had a full staff catering to its customer’s needs even at the God-awful hour of two a.m.

Sam would make sure to leave a little tip in the fancy jar at the front desk. While he didn’t have the best job in the world, he could argue that it was far better than staying up all night for no reason other than to help people that were all asleep.

When he got to the given room number and knocked on the door, he was nearly about to crawl out of his skin. He was aching for a mind-cleansing match of Poker, of Texas Hold ‘Em, of Blackjack, of anything really. So when Patrick opened his door for him with that smile of his that said he understood, Sam wrapped his arms around the Irishman in what could only be interpreted as a ‘bear hug’.

Patrick returned it with just as much fervor. Sam wasn’t the only one who coveted these times together.

When they finally let go, they stood quietly for a moment. Patrick at the threshold and Sam just outside the door. Not even a minute went by before they laughed their little bit of awkwardness away and the witch ushered the hunter inside.

These nights they shared were something they never spoke of to anyone, but held dear nonetheless. They were nights built off of give-and-take, symbiosis, and silent understanding. A short time (in a life that could end in an instant and a life that would go on forever) that was meant to forget about their troubles, worries, and regrets.

Tonight they would play to forget.

To remember.

For the hell of it.

Even after the sun came up.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! This was just a little something to try to get me back in the spirit of writing again. (It's been a long time and Chuck have I missed it!)
> 
> Show a little love, tell me what you think! <3 Comments are greatly appreciated! :)
> 
> Stay beautiful!


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